Bottom's Up!
by katbybee
Summary: WINNER TWO 2017 BRONZE PBA's-BEST SNAPSHOT, BEST QUOTE: What event could possible render both Col. Hogan and Col. Klink speechless for a full five minutes? Read on for the answer... Btw: As always, I own nothing, I see nothing, I hear nothing...oh, sorry, got carried away...please read and review! Forum XIIIc Story Challenge #68 for 96 Hubbles


Bottoms Up!

Newkirk supposed he was actually lucky he was only in the cooler for thirty days. He also figured once the laughter died down, Colonel Hogan would probably try getting him out of here in week or so. And then he was going to strangle Carter with his bare hands.

Well. It _was_ all his fault. Wasn't it? Of course it was. After all, the whole stupid bet had been Carter's idea. Hadn't it? Of course it had. Or had it? Of course, LeBeau hadn't helped matters at all. _He thought back over the crazy events of the last couple of days. If he was going to end up killing one of his mates, he wanted to make sure he killed the right one…_

Carter had been pretty sick for the last couple of weeks, fighting off a really bad cold. For a while, they were all afraid it would turn into pneumonia again. The young sergeant had had it three times already, and they had nearly lost him the last time. Fortunately, he had turned the corner three days ago, and was doing much better. Newkirk had sat up most of that night with his best friend, when it seemed like poor Andrew simply was not getting any better, and could hardly breathe. Newkirk had wiped his face with a cool cloth and begged him not to die on him. And then he had uttered the fateful words…

"Andrew, me mate, you pull through this, and I swear, I'll do anything! Anything at all!"

Carter had smiled a little as his glassy eyes cracked open slightly. Weakly, Andrew chided him, "Now, Peter, you know you don't really mean that. I'll bet you I could come up with something you absolutely would never do…" he grimaced as his voice cracked and he coughed painfully.

Newkirk shook his head vehemently. "No, mate, I mean it. _Anything_."

Carter looked at him once again, his feverish eyes holding a speculative look that suddenly made Newkirk nervous. "I'll hold you to that bet, Peter." Carter smiled, and lay back. Just at that moment, LeBeau brought a cup of soup for Andrew, and Newkirk realized painfully by the amused look on his French compatriot's face that he had heard the entire conversation. LeBeau smirked at Newkirk, then turned his attentions entirely to Carter. "Here, Andre', drink your soup."

And this morning, Carter's first day back at roll call, the ruddy devil had proven just how devious he really was, when he collected on the bet. Oh, Newkirk had known it was coming; he just never thought the little git would actually make him go through with it. But looking back on it, even he had to laugh. Who would have thought shy little Carter would have had it in him to come up with a stunt like that?

And of course, LeBeau could be counted on NOT to keep his mouth shut, and before you could say "Bob's your uncle," every man in Barracks Two knew about the fact that Newkirk had made some sort of bet with Carter that he was now obligated to keep. But no one knew what Carter had in mind. That part was just between the two of them, and last night when Carter dragged Newkirk into Col. Hogan's office and explained the requirement…everyone in the main room heard Newkirk scream, "Not bloody likely!" at the top of his lungs, then storm out the door into the main room. Carter, however, was not fazed in the least. He simply reminded Newkirk of the terms of their bet, and smiled smugly.

All the men in the room stared at Newkirk, and when he looked to Col. Hogan for help, Hogan shrugged, "Sorry, Newkirk, but as you've often said, 'A bet's a bet.' Can't help you." He had to admit, though, he was starting to get a bit worried about what the heck this bet was all about. But it was obvious neither man was going to own up to the stakes. He just hoped it wasn't anything too crazy…

The next morning at roll call, every man in the camp got the answer to the now famous bet between Carter and Newkirk…and it would go down in Stalag 13 history as the one time that both Col. Klink and Col. Hogan were rendered completely speechless for at least a full five minutes.

Just after Schultz had completed his count, and before Klink could shout "Reeeepoooorrrt!" suddenly Corporal Peter Newkirk marched into the middle of the formation, in full view of the entire camp, quickly drew a deep breath, and began loudly singing and dancing to the chorus of "My Ragtime Gal." As he reached the finale, "hello, my ragtime gaa-aa-l!" he dropped his drawers and executed a perfect four-cornered "moon" to every part of the stunned camp. He then calmly fastened his pants during the ensuing silence and marched back to his place beside Col. Hogan. By that time, the men had recovered, and applause, raucous shouts, whistles, and cheering broke out all over the camp, even amongst many of the guards. For his part, Andrew Carter was collapsed in the snow, rolling in helpless laughter. He knew the stunt would probably end badly, but he would forever treasure the sight of his best friend making an "arse" of himself, just for him.

~The "End"~


End file.
